Page 14 of My Kind of Monster

Because I want it… Because I like it.

HIM

I’m straddling her thighs now, two fingers pushing hard inside her tight, wet cunt and god fucking damnit, she looks beautiful. Naked and so fucking hot, I swear there’s steam rising from the snow beneath her. Her hair is wrapped around my fist, her head bent back uncomfortably, and her screams and moans mix together into the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard.

I watch the blood sliding out of the bite mark she left on my skin, and I’d be mad if she wouldn't have moaned when it touched her tongue. Funny how the body betrays the mind, how her brain is clearly screaming at her to flee, but her body is digging its heels into the ground to keep her in place. Then I watch the thin strands of blood trickle down her shoulder where I bit her, and I want to lick it off then give her a taste. I want to mix her blood with mine in her pretty fucking mouth.

So I do.

I lean over, swipe my tongue over the bite mark, then force her head to the side so she can face me. Her bright green eyes are a shade darker, and I can see the conflict within her. Her demons are dancing, but the woman is cowering away scared.

She’s fucking beautiful. Just like that, with fear painted all over her face and lust seeping out of her eyes.Fucking beautiful!

I force my bloodied tongue into her mouth and kiss her so violently I probably split her bottom lip open. She fights me with everything she has. She's pushing me out of her mouth with her tongue, trying to force it closed, screaming into it, fighting with me in a game of pain and lust. Yet, she doesn’t realize that she’s pushing herself against me at the same time, her body closer, her mouth harder onto mine.

As I force a third finger inside her tight, dripping cunt, she screams into my mouth and I smile. She clenches around my fingers so tight, I swear she’s cutting off the circulation. If she wasn’t so conflicted, she would be close to riding them by now.

“That’s it, little siren, sing me a song…” I speak against her mouth. Like she’s suddenly jolted awake by my voice, she sinks her teeth into my bottom lip, and in a moment of weakness on my part, she manages to drag herself forwards, away from my grip. I catch her leg, but she's slippery from the snow and I lose it as she lifts herself up and starts to run again.

As I get up, ready to stretch this game and run after her, I look down for a split second. On the right, where the side of her abdomen would have been pressed on the ground, the snow is soaked in crimson.

She’s bleeding.

Suddenly, I’m running after her for a whole different reason. It’s not a game anymore, and I'm not entirely sure why I care. I reach her faster than before, wrap my arms around her body and lift her off the ground, turning us towards the house as she kicks and screams with all her might.

She kicks me in the shins, in the knees, and just about everywhere she can reach, but I don’t care. She’s a tiny fucking thing, not thin, but tiny, she's barely skimming the surface.

“Stop it, woman! You’re fucking bleeding!” I rasp at her.

“Of course, I’m bleeding, you goddamn idiot! You bit me!” This is the first time I hear her voice, not her screaming, not her whispering, her actual voice. It’s like a fucking melody when she talks, soft and warm. Her voice is sweet, but low, and I swear it sounds like she sings when she yells at me.

She’s quite literally a fucking siren, calling for me.

After all these years…

“No, not your shoulder, your belly, your side.” As I say that, she stills in my arms and attempts to look down. I follow her gaze and see crimson drops in the snow beneath her.

I put her down and wrap a hand around the back of her neck, holding her so she doesn’t bolt again. I turn her around and there it is. On the side of her abdomen, just under her ribs, there’s a piercing wound, but there’s nothing in it. No branch that maybe pierced her skin when I pushed her on the ground, it's not a knife wound either. It looks like a new wound that didn’t have a chance to fully close before the healing process started.

She uses her hand to wipe the blood to get a better look, but doesn’t seem surprised by it.

“It will heal eventually,” she states like a simple matter of fact.

I frown as I look into her eyes, and the calm, nonchalant tone of her voice bothers me more than it should. Like this is nothing special; she brushes it off like it happens all the time.

And then it hits me. It did happen, I don’t know for how long, but it did. For a moment, I forgot all the old and new scars dusted over her body. For a moment, I forgot about that son of a bitch chasing her onmymountain.

For a moment, I forgot why the siren sang the first time I heard her.

I haul her over my shoulder as she kicks and screams again, but I don’t give a fuck. I need answers. I need to know where to find that motherfucker and kill him.

But first, I need to check her over and patch her up. As I watch thin strands of blood where her feet hit the ground, I make a mental note to check them as well when we get back.

I’m honestly surprised and strangely content by the power within her. She ran like her life depended on it through these woods, she braved the cold, she braved the landscape, even the rough ground full of twigs, rocks, and fuck knows what else. She kicked and screamed and didn’t give up for a fucking second.

Until I sank my fingers into her seemingly unwilling pussy.

I felt her surrender the moment my fingers touched her core, and I knew, I fucking knew that the demons I saw in her eyes last night were cheering me on.

She’s mine! She’s fucking mine!

Whether she wants it or not.

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